Saving You
by mmaemae
Summary: She had just obliviated her parents. He had just seen a Hogwarts professor get killed. She was alone in a muggle bar, and he found her. She was vulnerable, but so was he. Set in DH, Draco Malfoy, through saving Hermione Granger, ultimately saves himself.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or Jane Eyre!

**1.**

_"If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends." - Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre_

It was an unusually chilly night in the outskirts of London. Hermione Granger sat alone at a dank and fairly deserted muggle bar, with her wand was stowed in her jeans pocket, and everything of worth to her packed into a small duffel bag that lay by her feet. Looks were deceiving, as she had managed to fit in not only her clothes and other nondescript possessions, but also collection of books that could have been hard pressed to fit into a single bookshelf. Needless to say, she had been practicing the Undetectable Extension Charm. She was also nursing a small gin and tonic. Hermione didn't usually drink on principle, but tonight she made an exception. Tonight had been a hard night. Tonight, she was, in all senses of the word, alone.

It hadn't been easy, getting the hang of the memory charm. It was a deviation from the standard Obliviate spell. It had been tricky. She had to get it absolutely right. There was no room for error, there had to be no oversights on her part. These were her parents, for heavens sake. _Her parents_. After all, they were still her parents, weren't they? Even though they had vacated her childhood home and moved to Australia, even though their names were different, even though they didn't know their daughter existed. Even though, to them, Hermione was just a name. It didn't mean anything, nor did it hold any significance.

At least they were still alive, Hermione thought, trying to console herself. Her hands clenched tighter around her drink, knuckles turning white with the force she was exerting. It was she who was dead. Her parents had no memory of her. She was dead in their minds- no, worse still, she was non-existent. It had been almost too easy, after weeks of preparation, to perform the spell. Just a muttered incantation, the twist of her wand and eighteen years worth of love and joy and memory, were gone.

Hermione refused to cry. When this is all over, when Harry defeats Voldermort, she told herself forcefully, stressing the _when_ in an effort to suppress the nagging _if._ I will find them, and lift the spell. And everything will be all right. Right now, I just need them to be safe. Safety is of paramount importance. This is the only way.

She raised her glass to her lips and sipped, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat, burning away her bleak thoughts, burning away her pain.

Something moved.

Hermione didn't turn her head, but she had caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. It was that man. He had come in earlier, about ten minutes after she had taken her seat in one of the far corners of the bar. Sparing her only a passing glance, he'd abruptly departed, only to return a couple of minutes later to order a drink and take a table not to far from hers. She thought nothing of it, nothing of him. He had dark brown hair and was dressed in casual muggle clothing. But now that she thought about it, suspicion started to rise. He had barely even moved. He had remained so still she had forgotten he was even there. His drink remained untouched. And he was watching her. She couldn't be a hundred percent sure of it, but there was an uneasy feeling stirring in her gut. He was watching her.

Hermione got up slowly. She had to leave. Maybe it was something, maybe it was nothing, but she wasn't going to take any chances. She wasn't expected at the Burrow for another week but she'd make do. She'd find somewhere to stay, and ward it. But she wasn't going to stay in this decrepit bar and mope, not when there could be possible danger lurking behind her. She gripped the duffel bag in her left hand and let her right hand casually drift to her pocket where her wand was. Constant vigilance, she reminded herself and she walked to the door.

"Stop."

The man spoke quietly, in a tone that made it seem more like a request than a demand.

She was right. He had been watching her! Hermione quickened her pace and kept her gaze firmly to the front.

'Don't leave."

Hermione continued to ignore him. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. She was almost there!

"Dammit! It's not safe! They are looking for you! Stay here!"

She froze. He must be a wizard! Slowly, she spun round, wand drawn and at the ready. Hermione stared at him, and watched the emotions flicker across his face like dying candlelight, before being finally extinguished into the impassive expression it was before.

In the short moments before his face became unreadable Hermione thought she detected a few things. Revulsion. Unease. Desperation. Confliction. It was enough to make her halt in her tracks and fully capture her attention. The man looked like a hunted animal.

She did not lower her wand.

"How is this muggle bar any safer than outside?"

The man got up from his chair in a single fluid motion, and approached her, wand in hand.

"I warded it against people that mean to harm."

"Who are you?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Who are you!"

He didn't answer.

"I need to know who you are and why you cast that spell!"

More silence. She could see him getting tenser and tenser though, like a snake coiled up and ready to attack.

Hermione ground her teeth, and pointed her wand at him threateningly. "Who. Are. You."

"Do not test my patience, mudblood!" the man spat, and his whole countenance changed. His face twisted into a snarl, he raised his wand in a sinister motion.

Hermione's heart sped up. Mudblood. He called me a mudblood.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Stupefy!"

She was quick, but he was quicker. She watched in horror as her wand jerked out of her by an unseen force, and flew in an arc through the air into her opponent's hand. Hermione knew she needed to run, needed to get away but her feet seemed glued the ground, she couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything. She watched transfixed, as the man's hair grew lighter and lighter and his features bubbled and distorted like wax, as he stretched upwards, growing slimmer and taller into the menacing form of Draco Malfoy.

"Granger, I need you to listen to me," he hissed. "Do not move, do not struggle, or there will be hell to pay."

Hermione looked around her desperately. She had no wand, and she doubted she could beat him physically. Malfoy had maneuvered himself so that he blocked the door. The barman had disappeared, presumably to the kitchen behind or the restroom. She had no means of escape. He noticed her looking towards the kitchen door.

"The barman? I Confunded him. He's on his way home as we speak. It's just you and me Granger." He didn't sound satisfied or arrogant or hostile. He didn't really sound like he felt any type of emotion at all.

Anger coursed through her. It was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, the death eater. The one who had indirectly poisoned Ron, who had nearly killed Katie with the cursed necklace. Draco Malfoy, the one who had let Death Eaters into the school, where they attacked and injured with impunity, Greyback who bit Bill and left his face deformed. Draco Malfoy, the one who was there, atop the Astronomy Tower, with Dumbledore and Harry. And because of Malfoy, Dumbledore was dead. Dumbledore was _dead_. Blinded by rage, Hermione wanted to launch herself at Malfoy, never mind that she hadn't a wand and he had two, never mind that he was a trained Death Eater. She wanted to hurt him, she wanted to make him _pay_. Her hands were balled into tight fists, and she was shaking. It took every ounce of her self control to keep her from hurling herself at Malfoy

"I am not going to hurt you, Mudblood." he said tersely, and with disbelief, as if he himself could not believe the words he had just uttered.

"And I'm supposed to believe you?" Hermione couldn't keep the derisive laughter out of her voice. "You waltz in here under the influence of polyjuice, forcefully take my wand as you turn back into your loathsome self and you tell me you're not going to hurt me? Why don't you just call your Death-Eater mates in and finish me off?" She hoped she sounded a lot braver than she felt.

"Listen to me!" his composure broke, stalked over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard. His eyes bored into hers, she had never been in such close proximity to Malfoy before, he looked half mad. They were nose to nose, in a perverse imitation of a moment right before a kiss.

"Listen to you?" she wrenched away from his hands, a difficult feat, for he had an vice like grip on her shoulders which she was sure would bruise.

"You killed Dumbledore!" she spat at him. "Why should I listen to you?"

"I didn't kill him!" he growled, he raised his hand in the air as if he wanted to hit something or grab his hair in frustration, and then he lowered them and he schooled his face into a blank mask as he sneered. "Didn't you listen to your precious Potter when he told the heart wrenching story?"

"But you might as well have!" Hermione yelled in return. "You as good as killed him! You snuck in the cursed necklace, you poisoned the mead! You let the Death Eaters into the school! You were there up on the Astronomy Tower! You had him cornered nice and proper for Professor Snape, so even if you couldn't kill him, there were at least ten others that could! You could have killed him-"

"BUT I DIDN'T!" The half crazed Malfoy was back. "I didn't! I couldn't do it! I failed. I failed at the one task the Dark Lord set for me. Do you think I wanted to kill Dumbledore? Do you think it was something I desired to do? Do you think the Dark Lord asks you to do things, like your wonderful Order? Do you think he said 'Draco, would you do this for me, if you don't mind, if you please?' "

He laughed, a bitter, broken, maniacal laugh that had Hermione's hair standing on end.

"No! He says, 'Draco,do this. _Or else._' Do you know what the Dark Lord does? Do you know what depraved, unnatural, perverse acts he makes his followers do? What he makes _me_ do?"

He staggered over to her and grasped her shoulders once more.

"I have seen death, Granger... to see death, but not to know death, is an affliction borne by those who follow the Dark Lord… last night another died, and I could do naught but watch. Charity Burbage," he shook her again, more gently this time. "Professor Burbage, you must know her. She was murdered by the Dark Lord. And before that…there were raids. Countless muggles, countless mudbloods, all defenseless, all dead."

Hermione felt her stomach plummet, she knew Professor Burbage, she had taught her back in third year when she had taken Muggle Studies. Another innocent, snatched up by the greedy hands of death.

"And when one of us disappoint the Dark Lord…. We are the only ones twisted enough to torture our own, to kill our own. I am sick of seeing death, Granger! I am sick seeing it, of causing it! But why should I be? Mudbloods. Filth. You're a mudblood. You're dirty and impure and unworthy of magic. You don't deserve to be here. And yet I couldn't let them kill you? Why didn't I let them kill you?"

Hermione felt a chill run down her spine.

"They were out for you tonight, Granger," his voice was merely a whisper. "They were going to kill you tonight. Not on the direct orders of the Dark Lord, no. He knows not of this mission yet, after all they are only seeking to earn his approval. Killing you, killing one of the golden trio and a mudblood to boot, would surely earn his favour. And my family needs that. We need the Dark Lord's favor. "

"You were foolish, mudblood. I cannot believe the Order gave you such scant protection. You placed the simplest of wards upon your home, they were easily broken. Fortunately when they broke in, you and your parents were no longer there. And you didn't ward this bar either, and you sat with your back to the door! You left yourself vulnerable. But I tracked you down first. I saw you just sitting there…. and I couldn't do it. Not another murder. I don't need more blood on my hands. I went back out, and I warded the place. Heavily. No one will know I'm here. I doubt the rest will notice my absence, after all, the _Malfoy brat_ is only an inconvenience, an annoyance...more importantly no one will know you're in here. No one will be able to find us until I lift the protective enchantments. You're not going to die, Granger. Not tonight."

"So I sat here. Watching you. Wondering why you have a right to live, when you're nothing but a mudblood, an abnormality. Why you, Potter's best friend, made me stop and think. I despise Mudbloods. You pollute the wizarding world with your muggle customs and ignorance of magic. But as much as I despise people like you… you don't deserve to die. Not like this. Not how the Dark Lord has planned you to. No one deserves such an end. I don't want your pity, Granger. I don't want any of your ridiculous Gryffindor compassion. I don't want your thanks. I'm not doing this for you, you are nothing to me. It's just that… by saving you, I'm saving me."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I dont own Harry Potter sadly D: I would love to, as would we all. But I don't.

AN: Read and review please! let me know if you like where this is headed and if they're in character enough for you!

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><p>2.<p>

"Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilised by education: they grow there, firm as weeds among stones." - Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

Hermione trembled, whether from relief, or from the weight of Malfoy's confession, she didn't really know. Her anger seemed to have deserted her, drained away by the raw truth and intensity of her enemy's words. It was a lot to take in. Malfoy had protected her. He had done it spitefully, reluctantly, and resentfully, but when it came down to it, he had protected her. Prejudiced bigot he may be, but at least he had a conscience. At least he could tell that whatever it was that the Dark Lord was doing, it was wrong. She didn't know quite what to make of it. The irony of the situation was clear. Draco Malfoy, the boy who was the first to introduce her, somewhat cruelly, to wizards' pureblood prejudices, was now the one protecting her from it.

Malfoy took several measured steps away from her.

"You're not to tell anyone about this. Not Potter. Or Weasley. Or the Order of yours." His voice was soft, but threatening. It carried across the distance he put between them like the wind carries leaves along in its wake. When the wind blows, it doesn't just sweep up one leaf. It sweeps a few. And Hermione didn't just catch his meaning, she caught more than that. The one sentence spoken with slight venom had lost much of its threat in the pleading undertones that were threaded through it, whether he knew it or not. Hermione thought, perhaps, she understood him. At least the part of him he revealed to her. Malfoy wasn't just angry. He was scared.

She nodded mutely, conveying her consent. They watched each other, curiously on Hermione's part, and Draco just blatantly stared, with a hint of distaste, or was it disbelief? She couldn't tell. It was uncomfortable. Where passionate emotions and angry words had reigned a few minutes ago, now there was only silence. She shifted her weight to her other leg and looked away awkwardly.

"You'll have to stay the night. Wait till morning, till there are more people about," he told her.

"I know. I'm not stupid," she retorted somewhat childishly, before she could stop herself. Poor show of gratitude really, Hermione thought to herself, to someone who had in all probability, just saved her life.

"Could've fooled me," Malfoy said in return, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, but only for a brief second. As sudden as their momentary camaraderie had came to be, it vanished. She wasn't even sure it had happened at all.

"Where will you go?" Hermione asked, her words betraying how she cared for Malfoy's welfare in spite of herself.

"Back." The single word was weighty in its connotations, in its bitterness.

The world had gone insane. That night she had lost her parents, almost and unknowingly lost her own life, only to be saved by an unwilling Malfoy and had then become a recipient of his cartharsis. And now, she felt the beginnings of empathy for this boy, this boy who was a product of his parents, regurgitating their mindless beliefs because he hadn't been taught any other, because he had never known any other.

"Stay," she urged, the plea slipping from her mouth before she could stop it.

He froze, and then let out a hollow laugh.

"Stay and? Stay and desert the Dark Lord?" he sneered. "Stay and cross over, switch sides, plead the Order to accept me, the poor boy forced into servitude to the Dark Lord to pay for his parents mistakes?"

Hermione felt a pang, and she tried to ignore it. She didn't want to get emotionally involved. There was still too much she was not willing to forget….the events of sixth year weighed too heavy on her. She would try to help him, because she owed him. She was in his debt.

"You're jumping to conclusions," she said calmly, rationally. She felt her composure returning to her. "Just stay here, tonight. You can avoid going…back. For now."

Malfoy scrutinized her, as if he didn't know quite what to make of her.

"You doubt my abilities? I will be able to conceal this from them. I am a fairly accomplished Legilimens, and I have mastered Occulmency better than any of those in the Dark Lord's circle. I was taught by the best."

By the best he must mean Snape, Hermione thought bitterly.

"No… I just…" she racked her brains for something that would make him stay, she knew not why she wanted him here so badly, why she did not just let him leave, leave and take the threat of him suddenly changing his mind and selling her out with him. But somehow she knew he wouldn't do that. She just knew, as clichéd as it might sound.

"Why prolong the inevitable. I will have to return, in the end."

But you hate it there! Hermione longed to scream at him. It's killing you! You have a heart, you have a soul, you have a conscience, you showed me as much tonight! And I hate to watch that be ravaged and wreaked by the cruelty that you are constantly exposed to, constantly forced to cause!

But she remained silent, because she knew, like she knew that Malfoy no longer posed as a threat to her, that her heartfelt words would do more harm than good. The time for emotions had passed.

She looked around the room, at loss for words. Her eyes fell upon the door, and then she knew.

"I need to you to stay, because you were the one that cast the protective enchantments. The further you go from here, the weaker the enchantments get. I've been practicing every day but somehow I still find that I cannot perfect such magic," It pained her slightly to have to admit that to him. "I don't want to leave anything to chance, Malfoy. I'm not asking this of you to somehow, in the end, help you. I'm doing it for myself."

It was an echo of what Malfoy had told her at the end of his confession. A twisted lie that, as she suspected it would, provided him with reason enough to latch on to, reason enough to stay.

"You are completely useless. Fine, I'll stay, Mudblood." He added the insult almost like an afterthought, and maybe because of that, it was hardly insulting anymore. Stalking over to the nearest chair, he sank into it. Hermione did the same. It would be a long night.

Minutes ticked by. Hermione hummed to herself under her breath and rummaged through her duffel bag for a book to read. She had to be careful, so that she wouldn't make a mess out of the neatly packed objects in her bag. She was loathe to take everything out and then have to pack it all again. It was difficult, and Hermione was getting nowhere. She withdrew her hand, defeated. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the blond spinning his wand with his fingers, something she had never been able to do, try as she might. Another thing he could do that she couldn't. She didn't like the thought at all. She was annoyed that he had mastered protective charms and she could only perform, at best, a decent one. Immensely grateful, yes, but also annoyed.

But…it was a necessary skill for survival, as had been proved tonight. She would need to learn how to do it in order to remain safe when she and Harry and Ron were hunting Horcruxes. She had to swallow her pride and bite the bullet. She had to ask for help, from Malfoy no less. But he was here, and had proven himself in fact extremely skilled in this area, and they had heaps of time to kill.

"Malfoy," she called out hesitantly as the blond turned to look at her. "Do you mind showing me how to perform strong protective enchantments? It's something I have not been able to do, as I mentioned earlier." The last line was delivered somewhat reluctantly, as she knew her rival would take great delight in being able to out perform her in anything. She was hoping that would outweigh the cons of helping her, on the off chance that he realized by doing so he was inadvertently providing her with the tools that may indirectly lead to the defeat of the Dark Lord. Schoolboy rivalry ran strong still, she had learned that from Harry and Ron.

Sure enough, she was not disappointed. A smirk formed on Malfoy's face as he got up.

"I thought you were the brightest witch of our age, Granger."

Hermione scowled at him. "We have ages till morning. Do you want to sit there and fiddle with your wand or do you want to help me?"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Mudblood. I'll show you how it's done."

He walked towards her and pointed her towards a table.

"A protective charm gets more difficult with the complexity of the object or person involved, and the number of objects and people involved. If you started straight on people, or numerous people, your attempts would obviously only be mediocre at best."

Hermione mouth formed a soft "Oh". The blond smirked once again as he realized he had one upped Hermione Granger.

"It's all about the subtle movement of the wrist. Try it on the table. _Salvio Hexia_," he murmured, and put his hand on hers to guide the movement of her wand. Hermione was shocked at the suddenness and gentleness of the contact between them but she made no outer movements to betray that. The second the spell reached completion he jerked back as if burned, and he stared at his hand, his face a mixture of revulsion, and surprise. Hermione let it slide, and Malfoy did not touch her again.

Once she could successfully charm the table, Malfoy had her cast a protective charm on multiple tables, and then on him. He taught her not only one charm, but a few that Hermione knew would really come in handy. He was a good teacher, she was hated to admit it but he was. Under his tutelage, she was quickly mastering the spells. In the early hours of the morning, Malfoy pronounced her as proficient, and they both slid to the floor, exhausted from the use of magic. She was so tired, and she could only guess at how completely knackered Malfoy was from the whole nights events. He had to chase her down, a challenge both physically and magically, set up the enchantments and then teach her those very charms, as well as go through immense emotional turmoil. It had been quite a night. In the excitement of it all, Hermione had almost forgotten her sorrow about her parents. Almost, but not quite.

Malfoy slumped against the wall, mumbling. She caught the odd few words.

"You learn fast…impure, dirty, mudblood….but you're so good at magic…but you weren't meant for magic… doesn't make sense does it…"

She saw his eyelids flutter shut and watched his whole body relax into slumber. He looked so human. So vulnerable.

She herself found it hard to keep her eyes open. In the half waking, half sleeping moments before she dozed off, she couldn't help but wonder if he knew what he was doing, that subconsciously, he wanted to give her the skills, the knowledge. He wanted her to survive. Maybe she was his path to a warped redemption of his on making. By saving her, he was making up for the many of whom he could not.

A couple hours later, she awoke. The sun was peeking out from behind the trees, she deduced it was about seven in the morning. She turned, and saw Malfoy standing by the door. He tossed something towards her, but she was too busy rubbing the sleep from her eyes to catch it. It bounced off her knees and rolled to a stop a bit away from her. She crawled over to grab it, still bleary eyed.

"I put a Protean Charm on it," Malfoy said in a glacial tone. The dawn of a new day seemed to have washed away all that transpired the previous night, he was once again the cold, detached man he had been before. "I don't want tonight to have been for nothing. I will contact you if I know of… anything that might happen that might endanger you. "

He seemed conflicted. Well he should be, Hermione thought. He was as good as offering his service as a double agent…not to the Order, but just to her. A plain, nondescript, girl. A muggleborn. She was a bit confused about it herself. She didn't know what drove him to do it, but she was thankful.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, retrieving the object, which was a ring, and slipping it on her finger.

"I'm not doing it for you," he replied harshly.

"I know, but thank you all the same… " she trailed off, examining the ring.

"You can contact me through the ring, but there's no way for me to contact you!" she exclaimed.

He stared at her.

"Why would you want to?"

And with that, he left.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter!

**A/N**: Thank you so much** HPAsherra, Imperatrix Nyx, Reader, Lissie1019, EternalIce** and **I Will Change Their fate**, your reviews mean the world to me! I appreciate them very much and I hope you all enjoy this chapter! No Draco in it, but no worries he'll be up soon enough! Read and leave a review to tell me what you think!

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><p>3.<p>

_"'You have saved my life: I have a please in owning you so immense a debt. I cannot say more. Nothing else that has being would have been tolerable to me in the character of creditor for such an obligation: but you: it is different;-I feel your benefits no burden, I knew (you) would do me good in some way, at some time;-I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you: their expression and smile did not...strike delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing"-_Jane Eyre

Life seemed to be extraordinarily dull and unexciting after Draco Malfoy left. Hermione had picked herself up, dusted herself off, and decided not to tempt fate by staying on her own any longer. She headed to the Burrow a week earlier than was expected, but she was welcomed with open arms by the entire Weasley clan. The warmth and familiarity of the Weasley home did more for Hermione than anything else could have done, it helped her slowly, not get over, but get used to the fact that her parents could no longer be there for her for the time being. She told no one of her actions, and relished in the normality of things, how everything went on exactly how it used to. Mrs Weasley, in spite of the endless preparations needed for the wedding, still found time to fuss over her and cook extravagant meals in a supreme effort to feed her up, as she was pronounced as "peaky" upon her arrival. Mr Weasley continued bombarding her with questions about air conditioners and television and the plumbing system, Fred and George made a nuisance of themselves in any way they possibly could, making her laugh so hard she nearly cried. Ginny and Ron were a wonderful comfort to be around, and they spent their evenings holed up in the living room playing wizards chess, or exploding snap, talking and reminiscing, and even just sitting in companionable silence. It felt exactly like all her previous holidays at the Burrow. It was almost as if she would, in a couple of weeks, leave the Burrow with her trunk and board the Hogwarts Express. But one look at her right hand would remind her it was not so. On her index finger lay Malfoy's silver ring. She checked it now and again, but it always remained a plain, non descript silver ring. It was hard to explain, but she was absolutely convinced that if something came up, that if ever she were in danger from the Dark Side, Malfoy would keep his promise and this ring would be a sign. Nevertheless, Hermione cherished the days spent at the Weasleys. They were days of precious normalcy, which she was sure, would not be so soon in coming again.

Sure enough, Hermione and Ron were called into an order meeting a couple of days before Harry's birthday. Ginny wanted desperately to attend but Mrs Weasley was adamant and firmly removed her only daughter to her bedroom. Ginny did not go quietly, and Hermione felt for the younger girl.

They entered the kitchen and Hermione was surprised to see the large gathering of people, as meetings were usually small so as not to draw attention to the large amount of wizards and witches dropping by the Burrow. In addition to the original members of the Order, Fred and George were there, and she was pleased to see Remus and Tonks, who were recently married and had been finding it increasingly difficult to come ever since the Ministry had begun clamping down hard on half-breeds. Mad Eye had eyed them all, and briefed them in great detail of the mission they would undertake in getting Harry Potter safely to the Burrow. Hermione listened eagerly, wondering how she and Ron would play a part in this.

Mad Eye got up from his chair and walked to the head of the table to face them.

"Plan A has been scrapped. To get Potter here alive, we'll have to go on brooms, Thestrals and Hagrid's bike. Arthur's been working on it, thinks he can make it fly. There's no other way to do it, since Potter's still got the Trace on him and the Ministry's cut off all other means of magical transport. Can't use a Portkey, can't Apparate, can't connect Potter's fireplace to the Floo because the bloody minister has made doing all of these things a imprisonable offence. "

"But that doesn't make sense," Hermione cut in. She felt Ron looking at her with exasperation.

"Not a minute into this and already you're asking questions," he whispered, half amused.

Ignoring him, Hermione focused her attention on the adults in the Order.

Lupin looked carefully at Hermione and Ron. "We have reason to believe that Thicknesse has gone over. "

She gripped her edge of her chair tightly, slightly taken aback. She had guessed as much, had suspected that would happen sooner or later, but to hear the words uttered out loud that the Minister was acting as a puppet for He Who Must Not Be Named was daunting at best.

"Mundungus here," Mad Eye jerked his head irritably towards the guy sitting to the far left as he picked up where we left off. "Suggested we use polyjuice potion. Several identical Potters. That should fool any Death Eaters You Know Who has on patrol on Privet Drive. We've had Kingsley leak a false trail to the Ministry but no one knows how much of a hold You Know Who has on them."

Hermione spotted a flaw in the plan. "But," she voiced out, her words punctuated by a stifled groan from Ron, which she once again ignored. "This is Harry we're talking about. I don't think he'll like the idea of people risking themselves on his behalf. We need him to co-operate, we need a strand of his hair I don't fancy that he'll be willing."

Surprisingly, Ron backed her up. "Yeah, I reckon he'll not be too keen on that."

"There's nothing much he can do about it," George said laughingly. "All of us against one underage wizard, yeah seems like we've hit a real snag."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," said Bill sagely, and everyone nodded, though Hermione privately felt that they all agreed with George.

"This is going to be risky. It's not going to be safe. You're going to be facing Death Eaters, and You Know Who could make an appearance at worst. Everyone here is overage, and are qualified witches and wizards. We are not going to be able to protect you. We will try, but there's no guarantee all of us will make it back." Mad Eye glanced around the room severely, his gaze lingering on Fred and George, and then Hermione and Ron.

"So…." Ron said slowly. "You want us to be in on this?" He was surprised, but Hermione could also tell more so that he was thrilled to be included in a mission for the Order.

"You are of age," Mr Weasley sighed heavily. "And we do need more people to make this mission work. We need seven identical Potters, and we lack enough people, hence, your involvement. That is, only if you would like to."

"Why do they get a choice?" someone complained, suddenly and very loudly.

"Shut it, Mundungus!" Mad Eye growled.

He looked threateningly at Mundungus, who seemed like he wanted to protest but the strong grip of Mad Eye's mutilated hand on his shoulder was enough to keep him quiet.

"We'll do it," the twins chorused automatically.

"Yeah, count me in," Ron said from beside her and Hermione nodded her head vigorously.

"Me too," she said.

Mrs Weasley harrumphed. She looked slightly displeased, but mostly resigned to the fact that all her sons but one would be participating in this mission. Mad Eye turned to face her, and a look of understanding passed between them. He then went on to explain the intricacies of the plan, giving details about the different safehouses and timings of the portkeys and such, all the while stressing the utmost importance of keeping the operation a secret. After that, most of the Order cleared out but some stayed, like Hagrid, Lupin and Tonks, for the delicious roast Mrs Weasley served up for dinner.

"I hope everything works out," Hermione said worriedly.

She and Ron were having a hushed conversation by the chicken coop. They were going carry out the plan tonight, and although she was sure that they had taken every precaution, she still felt anxiety nagging at her.

"Yeah well, I think the Order's got everything set. We'll make it out alright," Ron replied.

Seeing that that didn't ease her worries, Ron continued.

"Anyway, we've got to get Harry out of that hell hole once and for all. The muggles he stays with, the Dursleys, they are completely mental! Blimey, remember how in second year they put bars on his windows and Fred and George had to pull it off using Dad's flying car? Bonkers, I tell you."

Hermione laughed, and then quickly pursed her lips. "That flying car got you into nothing but trouble, Ron Weasley! It was so dangerous!"

"Lighten up Hermione, it was just a bit of fun!"

"A bit of fun that could have killed you!"

"Bloody hell, you sound like my mother."

Hermione giggled and then said in a high pitched tone, "_If you put another toe out of line, we'll bring you straight back home!"_

Ron pretended to wince. "That was a low blow."

"And no less deserved," she retorted.

Ron turned to look at her in utter seriousness, ruining the mood of playful banter from before.

"Don't worry, Hermione. We'll have Harry back here and safe. We'll all be safe. Not a scratch. I'm sure You Know Who wouldn't have a clue that we're moving Harry early. We'll pull one over on him and we'll be bored to tears at Bill and Fleur's wedding before you know it."

At the mention of You Know Who, Hermione glanced at her right hand. The ring that lay on her index finger, was still a ring. There wasn't a sign, or a message, or a warning from Malfoy. _I guess nothing will happen to us after all,_ she thought to herself. She looked up at her best friend and smiled.

"Thanks Ron."

* * *

><p>"Harry!" Hermione cried, and threw her arms around him. 'It's so good to see you!"<p>

"Hey mate!" Ron said from behind her, and she could see the smile on his face from just hearing his voice.

They were at Privet Drive, and Hermione never imagined the relief and joy that would course through her when she saw Harry. The trio stood, grinning at each other, but they were soon pushed out of the way by the rest of the Order who were shouting greetings. Harry led them all into the kitchen and Mad Eye started briefing Harry on what was going to happen. She watched his expression carefully as the plan was outlined. Once Mad Eye mentioned the seven potters and withdrew the flask of polyjuice potion, Harry's eyes widened.

"No!" he shouted, "No way!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the rest of the group and turned to Harry.

"I told them you'd take it like this," she said, and she couldn't keep the tinge of smugness out of her tone.

Harry protested, Fred and George tried to lighten the mood but ultimately Mad Eye's persistence got the job done. Harry dropped a bit of his hair in the ex-Auror's flask, and the potion frothed and bubbled, turning a light gold.

"Ooh, you look so much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry!" Hermione said without thinking, and then she felt herself promptly turning bright red as she realized how other people could perceive her sentence. Ron raised his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, you know what I mean," she said impatiently. "Goyle's potion looked like troll bogies."

After that things happened rather quickly. They lined up to drink the potion, and the intense and painful sensations from her features shifting and changing made the transformation really quite unpleasant. It was a bizarre thing, to look exactly like her best friend, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. It was bizarre to look like a boy, period. And a boy with particularly awful eyesight at that.

Hermione found that she was paired with Kingsley and she was going by Thestral. She was relieved, because she had no confidence on a broomstick and every bit of confidence in the most skilled Auror in the department that happened to be her protector. Everyone got into position, the tension was heavy in the air. At Mad Eye's count, as a single entity, they flew out of Privet Drive. Clutching hard at Kingsley, she watched as the ground fell away from them as they climbed higher and higher into the sky. It was hard to see, it was pitch black. Hermione squinted in the darkness…

A bolt of light flew past her, missing her by inches, and suddenly they were surrounded. Death Eaters emerged seemingly from thin air, shooting spells with abandon. The night sky was alight with the different colored beams of light shooting from the tip of wands as she was momentarily deafened by the shouts of alarm and spell casting.

_We've been ambushed_, Hermione thought fearfully, quickly withdrawing her wand to fire off a succession of stunning spells at the nearest hooded Death Eater. She and Kingsley worked together to fend off the Death Eaters. Hermione had never been so frightened. They were all so unprepared for an attack of this scale, and they were dueling to kill. You Know Who knew that Harry was going to be moved that night.

Malfoy, Hermione suddenly realized, anger melding with her fear. He hadn't warned her! He must have known this would happen. So many of You Know Who's followers were surrounding them! He could even be one of her attackers, she thought bitterly. However, despite her anger at the youngest Malfoy, every time she cast a spell at a cloaked figure, she held her breath, hoping in spite of everything, she hadn't unknowingly cursed him.

They were keeping their attackers at bay, but their progress to safe house was slow.

"Kingsley, look!" Hermione shouted.

Behind them were five Death Eaters in hot pursuit.

"Stupefy!" she yelled at the top of her voice, but her spell missed her target by inches.

Kingsley cursed two of their pursuers, one of them toppled from his broom, and Hermione bit back a cry as he plunged to a perhaps inevitable death.

"Hermione, turn back around," he commanded her abruptly, his voice suddenly tinged with fear.

"What? Why?" she asked, trying desperately to curse the Death Eaters following them.

"Turn around!" Kingsley shouted at her, and used his body to completely cover hers, flattening her to the body of the Thestral, but not before she caught a glimpse of _him_, flying without aid of broomstick or Thestral, and like chimney smoke, blending into the blackness of the night sky with only his pale white face standing out. Voldermort himself had joined the chase.

Hermione's heart raced, her chest heaved from exertion and from fear. Her head was pressed into the feathery body of the Thestral, she couldn't see a thing, her senses were muted, she could hear nothing except the pounding of her heart, but she could imagine all too clearly You Know Who getting closer and closer, ready to curse, ready to kill….

"He's vanished!" Kingsley yelled over the noise and the havoc, allowing Hermione to lift her head. "Hang on!"

He muttered a spell under his breath and did a complicated wand movement and managed to blast away the remaining three Death Eaters surrounding them, allowing the Thestral to speed forward with alarming alacrity.

And as suddenly as they were ambushed, they were now alone.

Kingsley guided the Thestral to make a few sharp turns.

"I need to make sure they're off our trail. Are you injured? Did any of them harm you?"

"No, I'm all right," Hermione said, giving herself a once over and shuddering.

"We've been betrayed," Kingsley told her grimly. "They knew we were moving Harry tonight."

"I can't imagine that any of us would…" Hermione trailed off and for the rest of the ride, she and Kingsley did not speak.

They were not pursued further, and they reached Auntie Muriel's home. She greeted them irritably, asked them if they were hurt, and upon determining that they weren't hurt, handed them a bent coat hanger.

"It's the portkey. It'll be activated in a minute…ah there it is, hold on then."

The hanger glowed bright blue, and Kingsley and Hermione grasped it tightly.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Kingsley said politely, right before they were drawn into the spinning whirl that was their transport to the Burrow,

The aftermath was nothing but huge mess of panic and confusion and relief. George had lost an ear, Mundungus had scarpered…and Mad Eye was dead. The relief Hermione felt at seeing Harry and Ron and everyone else safe and sound was quashed by the overwhelming sorrow she felt at the loss of the ex-Auror. He had been the consummate survivor, one of the masterminds of the Order, and now he was gone. Gone, like Dumbledore was gone, like Cedric Diggory was gone. How many more were to perish? How many more innocents were to die at the hand of You Know Who's twisted machinations? What really,truly ate at Hermione though, was that Mad Eye's death could possibly have been prevented…if Malfoy had made good on his promise. George could have perhaps avoided injury …if Malfoy had kept his word.

"But it's Malfoy," she reminded herself bitterly one evening while the boys were off in the yard. "What did you expect?"

She glared at the ring that he had given her, and then tugged it off, casting it away from her, not caring where it fell. Hermione then left her room without sparing it a second glance, and employed an insult frequently used by Ron to express her feelings.

"Bloody git, Malfoy."

The following days leading up to the wedding were hectic. Mrs Weasley had them running all over the place helping her prepare for the wedding. Hermione wouldn't have minded, only that she knew Ron's mother was doing it to separate the three of them so they wouldn't have time to discuss or plan. She appreciated Mrs Weasley's concern, but she tired or her mollycoddling, as did Harry and Ron. They were going to leave and hunt down Horcruxes. It had been decided, and really, getting her to feed the chickens while Harry hung the laundry and Ron cleaned out the fireplace wouldn't change much.

Harry's birthday came and went, the pleasant affair they had planned it to be got botched by the arrival of the Minister of Magic, who came to release the contents of Professor Dumbledore's will. Hermione had been touched, and exceedingly surprised, that Dumbledore had remembered her in his will, but incensed at the unnecessary bureaucracy of the ministry and how they were mucking everything up. The Ministry was absolutely rubbish at dealing with crisis. It was either that they ignored it completely, or they tried to look effective by chucking decent witches and wizards into Azkaban. Also, the wake of Mad Eye's death, Hermione found herself feeling strangely emotional. She guessed it was the culmination of, well, _everything_. It also really struck her, that in a few days she would be setting out with Harry and Ron to hunt down the Horcruxes. It was just them, a couple of teenagers, against the most powerful evil wizard the world had ever seen. It was a pressurizing, frightening prospect. She cried once or twice, and she confessed to Harry and Ron what she had done to protect her parents. It felt good to get it off her chest, and Ron has been surprisingly comforting and sensitive about it. Seemed like the chap no longer possessed the emotional range of a teaspoon.

It was the night before the wedding, and Hermione couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in bed, uneasy. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck, and the noises in the night seemed to be magnified, buzzing in her ears, annoying her. In the dark, she could barely make out the silhouette of her beaded bag and floaty periwinkle dress resting on the dresser. She was excited to wear it in spite of herself. It would be nice to dress up, and attend something as beautiful as a wedding in such troubled times. Her eyes drifted to the floor, where her high heels lay…something glinted in the darkness. Something was on the floor…and it was gleaming.

Her curiousity piqued, and resigned to the fact that sleep would continue to evade her, Hermione shoved the covers off and got out of bed. She bent down, and picked up the shining object. Her heartbeat sped up. It was Malfoy's ring. It was emitting a faint glow, as well as feeling significantly, but not uncomfortably, warm.

Hermione fumbled for her wand.

"Lumos," she said hastily, and examined the ring under wandlight, her eyes wide with anticipation. She was not disappointed. Inscribed in tiny, cursive script on the ring were the words:

"_Meet me outside the Burrow. Now."_


End file.
